Awkward Dining For Dummies
by Dawn-Of-Indescribable-Colors
Summary: It's always nice when the Malfoys come over for Christmas. Note: Sarcasm. ENTRY FOR THE RAVISHING ROMANCE COMPETITION, MEDIUM. WARNING: SLASH. LANGUAGE. ONE-SHOT. HOLIDAY SPECIAL.


**Wow...no idea why this one-shot took me so long. Written for the Ravishing Romance Competition, for Medium. :)**** Listen to:  
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**Angels We Have Heard On High - Family Force 5**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**_ ~ Awkward Dining For Dummies ~_  
**

* * *

"Eat your carrots, James." Ginny didn't have to look to know he was neglecting them.

"What 'mm I? Six? Let me eat my pork in peash-"

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Dinner was progressing in the usual fashion at the Potter home. James with his carnivorous and - as his mother often told him - quite atrocious table manners. Albus with his quietness. Little Lily with her semi-permanent grin, giggling into her milk every time James told a joke and Ginny trying to prevent her from inhaling some of it. And then Harry...with his nose buried in a novel.

All was as it should've been, and there was a certain comfort in the air at having the boys back for Christmastime. The house felt less...lonesome.

But Harry could certainly have done without Albus's first comment of the evening.

"Oh. Hey, Mum..."

"Mm?"

"I...erm...I invited someone over for Christmas dinner tomorrow."

Ginny met Harry's eyes over the edge of his book. It was obvious what they were thinking:

Albus had finally mucked up the courage to ask Rose on a date.

"That's nice, love. Who is she?"

James gave a loud snort, not even bothering to hide his amusement as he grinned at Albus through a mouthful of pork. Albus elbowed him in the side, mumbling something down at his potatoes.

"What was that?"

He coughed once, then cleared his throat, cheeks gone flaming red. "It's uh...it's Scorpius Malfoy."

Several things happened at once.

Ginny dropped her fork. James burst out laughing, spraying some of his masticated meat onto his plate. Lily gave this delighted little squeal. And Harry's jaw fell open so comically, one would've wished they'd snapped a picture.

James, surprisingly, recovered first. "Well, I think it's a smashing idea! All the Malfoys in our home at once, sharing a turkey...plenty of sharp utensils about..."

"Shut it, James, you arse!" Albus snapped.

"Do _not _swear at the table!" And the booming voice of Ginny silenced all. The boys seemed to shrink back in their chairs, as if staring at some wicked banshee who'd suddenly materialized. Lily hiccuped.

"Harry..." Ginny said, "Harry, what do you think of this?"

Nothing.

"_Harry!"_

Snapping out of it, Harry cleared his throat. "I...well, I suppose that's fine. I don't know much about the Malfoy boy, but if it's just him..."

"That's just it, Dad! Didn't you hear what I was _saying?"_ James spoke before Albus could get a word out. "He's invited the entire bloody lot of them!"

This time, Harry dropped his book and Albus's head fell into his hands with a loud groan. He muttered something along the lines of, "I was just being _polite. _Bloody hell..._"_

Little Lily seemed to be the only one enjoying it all, the brightest smile in the universe covering her face ear to ear. It was plain as day that she had more than a little crush on Scorpius, even though Harry would insist she was still at an age to be believing in "cooties."

Ginny straightened her blouse, sweeping the fiery hair from her face as she attempted to regain her composure. "Now, it's alright. It's alright. Albus..."

He dragged his hands down a little so that only his eyes were visible, bright green and looking desperately to his mother for guidance.

"Did the Malfoys accept?"

He nodded mutely.

"All of them?"

Another nod, accompanied by a meek, "There are only three of them."

"Well," she said finally, sounding only the slightest bit exasperated, "we'll just have to straighten this place up, won't we? Eat your carrots, James, for the last time..."

* * *

Somehow, Ginny managed to get Harry washed, dressed and downstairs to await the Malfoys the following evening. She'd insisted he couldn't mope around in his study - insisted that being forced to dine with his mortal enemy was hardly the end of the world.

She didn't know the half of it.

If Draco Malfoy had been nothing but his mortal enemy, he might've been able to handle the evening, save a few charged glares across the way during the meal. But, as it was, there was a deeper heat beneath their mutual hate...one that hadn't gone unnoticed by either opponent.

Harry spent the half hour before they arrived grumbling under his breath as he knotted and re-knotted his green silk (how appropriate) tie. He took a seat on the sofa in front of the Christmas tree, inhaling its calming pine scent and nursing an overfilled glass of red wine. He was going to need it.

Ginny was busy with the food, the lovely scent of the Christmas turkey wafting through the house. She'd been scrambling around since six o'clock that morning, trying to make the place spotless. Honestly, you'd think she was preparing for royalty.

_The Malfoys come pretty close, _a stupid part of his brain reminded him.

_Do shut up._

The boys were standing in the front hall, arguing - fairly quietly, for their part - over a Christmas cracker. Ginny had also made sure they looked like proper gentlemen, all done up in dress shirts and slacks, though acting the part was an entirely different story.

And Lily, bless her, was waiting at the window, bobbing up and down excitedly in her snow white Christmas dress.

At least _someone_ would be enjoying themselves.

The moment had arrived, and Harry wasn't sure if George might've replaced their doorbell with Beethoven's 5th or it was just his imagination.

Nevertheless, Lily was giggling, the boys had stopped arguing and Ginny had come rushing in to answer the door before he'd even gotten to his feet.

He forced himself to draw a slow, calming breath.

Muffled greetings sounded around the corner.

And then three blindingly blond creatures stepped into view, dressed in expensive looking robes. Harry forced his eyes to go to Astoria first, considering her the safest. She had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, a shimmering green dress hugging her curves in a manner almost too provocative for a homely dinner, with her hand resting lightly on the small of her son's back.

Ah, the Malfoy heir.

He'd certainly grown up quick.

Like his father before him, twelve seemed to have been the limit for the slicked back hair, and the boy let his wild blond locks sweep across his forehead. He was extremely tall for his age - almost as tall as his father - and the scruff of a barely-there beard was visible on his fresh, fifteen-year-old face.

_Eyes like his father, too..._that same ridiculous voice noted.

But Harry was trying to seek as much detail as humanly possible in the wife and son, simply to put off _looking_ at him.

Of course he had to, though...eventually.

Malfoy hung back in the entrance hall as the greetings were exchanged - a dark, looming shadow beside the door - only stepping into the warm light when Ginny, Gryffindor to the bone, opened her arms to him. He shook James's hand, and then Albus's too, and Harry was shocked to see a small, amused smile grace the man's face at the sight of Lily.

Then he turned his head just so...and their eyes connected.

_Merlin._

He hadn't aged a day.

His hair was as shockingly white as it'd always been, face clean-shaven and free of wrinkles, his eyes as ghostly as ever. The black, designer suit looked as if it'd been made for him - probably had - and, as if to punctuate the irony of the whole damn evening, his tie was as Gryffindor red as the cheeks of Harry's little girl.

In one hand, Malfoy clutched a bottle of Romanian Firewhiskey (rare stuff), the other shoved deep in his trouser pocket. Harry wondered idly if he was clutching his wand.

"Pot-" he stopped himself, clearing his throat, _"Harry," _and he dealt the man a curt nod.

The awkwardness couldn't be overstated.

Harry swallowed the knot in his own throat, managing to force out, "Draco," before Ginny took matters into her own hands.

"Well, let's eat, shall we? I've prepared a turkey. I hope there are no objections..."

There was a round of quiet dismissals as the party moved into the dining room. Lily, Harry noticed with a wry smile, was practically stepping on Scorpius's heels. He wasn't even sure how she _knew_ Scorpius in the first place, but thought it better not to ask.

The dining room table looked better than it ever had, and yet it probably didn't mark up to Malfoy standards. He caught himself searching their guests' faces for even the hint of a scoff. None appeared.

And as Ginny disappeared to check on the turkey, they were faced with the doomed task of picking seats.

Albus went first, pulling Scorpius down into the chair next to him and Lily somehow managed to elbow James out of the way to take the spot on the Malfoy boy's other side.

Harry thought it was a brilliant idea to take the head of the table, considering he was the head of the house...but the fog crawled back in when Draco took the seat at the other end.

Excellent.

Now he'd have to spend the evening staring directly at the blond bastard.

Astoria took her place in the seat Draco had pulled out for her, across from her son, leaving Ginny to choose either side of her.

And the fatal dinner commenced.

The first course was _Accio-ed _to the table - a light cream of lobster soup - giving most of them the lovely excuse to be silent.

But Lily had other ideas.

"Professor Slughorn was saying that Scorpius is the best Seeker Slytherin's ever had."

Harry glanced up just in time to see the Malfoy heir's cheeks flame. He coughed, "Aha...erm...thanks - thank you."

"That's very impressive," Ginny said, backed by a quiet affirmation from Albus. And then James opened his bloody mouth.

"Wasn't Mr. Malfoy a Seeker when you were in school, Dad?"

He knew the answer to that perfectly well.

Harry took a large gulp of red wine. "Yes. Yes, he was."

"But you beat him every time, didn't you?"

He didn't hesitate to kick his son under the table, and James gave an overly loud yelp. Scorpius looked awkward, biting his lip as he played with his soup, and Albus was massaging his brow. Lily giggled.

But Draco shocked all when he murmured, "He's right." And there was a surprising hint of a laugh in his voice.

"You were a good opponent," Harry said, meeting Draco's eyes for a split second before glancing back at his soup.

"Thank you..."

And thus went the first course.

By the time the turkey was served, the wine had loosened Harry up a bit. He addressed Scorpius, who seemed to be the target of all inquiry as it became obvious he took things so graciously.

"So how is it in the dungeons, Scorpius? Do you enjoy Slytherin House?"

Scorpius smiled politely - Merlin knows who he learned that from - and set down his Butterbeer. "Yeah...yeah it's been good. It...uh...it lives up to its reputation."

"Not too cold down there? I remember it was cold..." He'd said it before he realized and had barely felt the pulse of Ginny's kick when he found himself staring into Draco's confused, platinum eyes.

"I...beg your pardon..." Draco murmured.

Harry cleared his throat, "I said - I said I _heard_ it was cold down there."

But Draco had that look on his face. That look Harry remembered all too well from his school years.

The look that meant he'd do _anything_ to get his way.

"No you didn't." Draco's voice took on a cold edge. "You said remember. I heard you. For Merlin's sake, I'm not deaf, _Potter."_

And the way he spat that name - it was so familiar, Harry felt a chill run through him.

"What's it to you, _Malfoy?_ Afraid I know something you don't?"

"Gentlemen..."

"Boys..."

The voices of their wives could hardly be heard. Because they were at it now. The old game. _Nothing_ could stop them now.

"On the contrary, _Potter,_ I happen to be very protective of Slytherin House," Malfoy hissed.

"Oh, yes! I'd forgotten! You're the bloody Slytherin Prince, or whatever rubbish they were always spreading!"

"You forget Sex God-"

"_Dad!"_

"_Draco!"_

"You were a bloody _gigolo_, that's all that was!"

"HARRY!"

"Mum, what's a-"

"Quiet, Lily!"

"You were spying on me, weren't you!? You snuck into Slytherin!" Draco had started to rise from his chair, Harry matching his every movement.

"So what if I did?! So what!? I'm sure you had plenty to hide!"

"Oh, bloody hell - what? Now you're going to spout all that 'holier than thou' bollocks! Yes, yes! Saint _Potter!_ We've all heard it a thousand times!"

"I didn't ask to be the bloody Chosen One!"

"But you _relished_ in it! Always flashing your stupid scar!"

"Oh, well if we're going to compare scars-"

"Shut your _fucking mouth,_ Potter." Draco's hand went instinctively to his forearm, rubbing it protectively as he ignored Astoria's outraged little squeak.

"Lily, go on upstairs now. Read that new book you got," Harry heard Ginny say at the back of his mind, too focused on Draco to fully comprehend it.

"Don't pretend you didn't believe all that rubbish, Malfoy. All those slurs about _Mudbloods _and _half-breeds-"_

"Merlin, Harry-"

"I was _raised_ to believe it, you bloody tosser!"

Valiantly, Ginny clapped her hands together, "Dessert, anyone?"

"Yes, and I'm sure you played with mini Voldemorts as a boy, didn't you?"

"Let's have some pie, shall we?"

"Fuck you, you bloody spineless prat! Take your bloody fame-"

"...your bloody pride-"

"AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ARSE!"

The last was said in unison...

And the two would probably be surprised to find that it was the first thing they'd ever agreed on.

A loud silence filled the room.

Until-

"Mum, can we..."

"Yes. Go."

And Scorpius and Albus vanished up the stairs a moment later.

Draco shot Harry one last smoldering look before he wrapped his fist around the neck of the Romanian Firewhiskey, dragged it off the table and disappeared around the corner with it.

The accusatory eyes of the wives rounded back on Harry.

He tore his glasses off his face, clutching them dangerously tight, and ground out, "I need some air," before leaving the room the opposite way.

It was quite clear nothing had changed.

Trudging out the front door into the wintery evening air, Harry ignored the freezing sensation of snow leaking into his slacks.

_Bloody arsehole..._

He stood out there for some fifteen minutes or so, hands shoved into his pockets, cooling off. Godric's Hollow was a charming sight at Christmastime. Almost every house was decked with sparkling, magical lights, decorated trees visible through the front windows...and it was as if he could almost _feel_ the spirits of his parents swirling around him.

Even Malfoy couldn't spoil that.

A muffled laugh sounded from above, startling Harry from his stupor. He turned, eyes fixing on Albus's bedroom window, slightly ajar, where whispers could be heard.

Albus was probably showing Scorpius one of George's tricks.

At least, that was what he wanted to think...but it really wasn't an option after a quiet moan leaked through the billowing curtains.

And instantly, his fatherly protective instincts were on high alert. He hastened back into the house, hearing what sounded peculiarly like Ginny and Draco's wife laughing, and swept up the flight of stairs.

He flew through the hallway towards the last door in the corner, his hand wrapping around the doorknob, and -

"Don't."

The low, calm voice came from behind, and Harry whirled around, abruptly recognizing the outline of Malfoy in the dark at the hall's other end.

"Leave them to it," he said, pushing off from the wall and uncrossing his long arms. Harry wondered where the bottle of Firewhiskey had gone. "They aren't hurting anyone."

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "On the contrary, Malfoy, I don't think I want my son to be involved with Scorpius. Who's to say he doesn't take after his father?"

And yet, ironically, they were keeping their voices low, so as not to disturb the boys.

Harry expected a heated comeback from Draco...and was surprised when the man's fatally handsome face grew solemn. "He doesn't. Astoria made sure of that."

And Harry had a sudden thought...

A sudden glimpse of the possibility that perhaps - just maybe - Draco was not the abysmal father that Lucius was. Considering Scorpius's table manners, it seemed almost..._probable._

But Harry still surprised himself when he stepped away from the door, sighing.

"Thought you loved your wife," he muttered offhandedly as he brushed past Draco towards the door to his study.

"I do love my wife," Malfoy replied quietly, turning to follow Harry with his eyes.

"I'm not convinced."

And once again, Harry shocked himself by leaving the door to his study ajar for Draco, slumping heavily into his leather chair.

He felt rather than saw Draco enter the room after him - heard the door click shut behind him.

The study was cozy and warm, like the rest of the house, with a glowing fire beneath the mantle and cherrywood surfaces throughout. Harry leaned forward to snatch the glass decanter of Muggle brandy off his desk, tugging a glass into his lap and filling it generously.

"Fancy a drink?" he asked, downing it. Sometimes he wondered whether he was a closet alcoholic, or if it was just Malfoy who did this to him.

"I think that Romanian stuff did enough to me..." Draco took the liberty of slipping into the chair across from Harry.

They eyed each other for several long moments, listening to the clock on one of the shelves tick the time away. It was getting late.

"This is bizarre," Harry said finally.

"Hmm?"

"Having you in my home. Thought I'd off myself before I allowed that to happen."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Harry rose his second glass to him in a tipsy salute. "Whatever suits you."

There was something familiar in Draco's eyes. Something Harry believed he had only ever witnessed once...

Something he hadn't dared to dwell upon since the day it had occurred.

And yet now...

Now he suddenly _wanted_ to dwell on it.

And he was powerless to stop himself when he struggled to his drunken feet and swayed over towards a hidden panel in the wall. He could feel that burning gaze on his back all along as he whispered a spell and watched the panel disappear, revealing an antique Pensieve...

Draco's breath caught.

"Do you remember this?" Harry slurred, turning to wave a small vile in front of him. "I remember this. Do you remember this?"

"I..." Draco stuttered, "I don't know what you're-"

"Oh, bugger off. _You know._ Come here."

And, in accordance with all the other strange happenings of the evening, Draco actually obeyed him, coming to a stop at his side, their shoulders touching.

Without hesitation, Harry tipped over the vile into the blue, glowing pool and dunked himself.

The world appeared in swirls of black ink, tinted with that same, strange blue, and Harry was quick to find his footing. Perhaps being intoxicated at a time like this wasn't the best idea.

A couple seconds later, Draco appeared beside him.

They both must've been a little drunk, or they never would've allowed this to happen. Perhaps more drunk than they cared to admit, and perhaps on something other than alcohol.

Ever so slowly, the figures materialized in front of them.

Figures long forgotten - figures of their sixteen-year-old selves.

Fighting.

But, really, when were they_ not _fighting?

This fight, however, would be remembered above all others. It was the kind one could never forget.

The kind that left scars - both physical and metaphorical.

Myrtle's disused bathroom looked exactly as Harry remembered it, down to the very last cubicle, and he found himself wondering whether she'd been there to witness this when it happened.

"_What the fuck do you want? Leave me alone!" _roared the beautiful, young Malfoy. Even in the memory, his voice echoed off the bathroom walls.

His crisp, white dress shirt was disheveled, the top three buttons thrown haphazardly apart, and his hair was all mussed up, standing at strange yet endearing angles.

And silent, sparkling tears were streaming down his porcelain face.

Malfoy wasn't one of those people whose faces scrunched up when they cried - the ones who looked ghastly, their cheeks splotchy and their skin wrinkled.

His eyes weren't even squinted.

Just wide open, allowing the tears to pour through. They dripped from his chin like early morning dew drops, and Harry knew full well that both his past and present self were thinking about kissing them away.

Regardless, past Harry ground out, _"I know what you did, Malfoy. You hexed her, didn't you?"_

And not a moment later, Draco drew his wand and the vicious duel ensued.

Harry caught himself looking away - he couldn't bare to see it. He heard the crashes of porcelains sinks exploding and the spray of water as it hit the tiles - heard their young selves' animal grunts and growls.

But when all went silent, he knew it'd happened.

He'd cast that damnable curse.

Glancing out the corner of his eye, he found Draco's attention glued to the scene laid out before them, and finally forced himself to watch the remainder of the memory. This was the part they'd come to see, after all.

But the alcohol was wearing off...

Young Malfoy lay sprawled across the soaked lavatory floor, gasping for breath, his white shirt growing transparent with dark, poisonous crimson. And Harry watched his younger form fall to his knees, eyes wide with disbelief and horror.

"_No...no, Malfoy..." _he panted, reaching out with shaking fingers and then pulling them back again. "_I swear I didn't...I didn't mean to...oh, Merlin..."_

Harry bit down hard on his lip as he watched himself pick up his discarded wand once more and hurriedly cast some desperate healing spells.

He remembered it taking a frightfully long time to find one that worked...

And then, finally, the ugly gashes started to seal themselves, and Malfoy's gasps were cut short.

He'd passed out.

Young Harry remained on his knees for some time, chest heaving, eyes still the size of saucers. After several tries, however, he_ did_ manage to touch Malfoy. His quivering palm flattened on the pale boy's sopping wet shirt, tracing his torso slowly up to his collarbone.

"_I'm sorry..."_ he whispered. _"Merlin, I'm sorry..."_

Beside him, Harry saw present-day Malfoy lick his lips. He knew what was coming.

Young Harry repeated himself a few more times, and then, seemingly without forethought, brushed Malfoy's lips with his own in a featherlight kiss.

Malfoy's eyes flew open...

And the memory collapsed into darkness.

The two men stepped away from the Pensieve, slightly short of breath, avoiding each other's eyes. Harry stumbled back over to his chair, practically falling into it, while Malfoy stayed looming in the corner behind him.

"Why did you want to see that?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry remained silent a long while. Then he said, "To make sure it was real..."

And he felt, rather than saw, Malfoy approach. His masculine warmth swept over Harry like a fog, prickling over his skin and raising gooseflesh as Draco leaned down, placing wintery lips beside Harry's ear.

"I would've died, you know," he murmured.

Harry shivered.

"I would've died if you hadn't done what you did."

Swallowing thickly, Harry managed, "You wouldn't have if I hadn't cast it in the first place."

Malfoy gave a low, seductive chuckle. "You really have no idea, do you Potter?" And now the name sounded more like an endearment. "Absolutely _no fucking idea."_

"Of...of what?"

"I don't care about the damn curse. Hell - I had your attention. That alone, even in violence, was enough to get me hard-up."

Harry gasped, his groin tightening.

"And I think you know you saved my life more than once..." At this, Malfoy took Harry's earlobe between his teeth and bit, causing Harry to cry out. He dropped his mouth to Harry's neck, opening wide to suckle the warm flesh - laved his tongue across it once - and then broke away.

Harry was already panting.

And Malfoy was already heading for the door.

"We can't..." Harry whispered weakly after him, even as every nerve in his body screamed the opposite.

"I know," was Malfoy's faint reply. He turned back when he reached the threshold. "But Harry," he said softly.

Their eyes locked.

"I do love my wife," Draco repeated. "I'm just not in love with her."

And with a final glimpse of what could never be, he disappeared.

* * *

"Harry," Ginny said later that evening as they were tidying up the kitchen. The Malfoy's had left some hours before, not without awkwardness, and not without some very obvious sex hair on Scorpius's part.

Mentally, Harry steeled himself for another round of scolding on his behavior at dinner.

"Mm?"

"About Draco..."

He cringed. Here it came again - _"How dare you fight at the table," "Never embarrass me like that again," "I can't believe you two would act like such children..."_

But no...

Instead she asked the most unthinkable of things.

"...How long have you been in love with him?"


End file.
